Casebook 6: The Case Of The Red Goddess
by TalepieceUK
Summary: From The Casebook Of Madame Vastra. Vastra and Jenny discover a mysterious temple beneath the streets of London.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Case Of The Red Goddess  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 15 cert.  
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny  
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra  
CONTINUITY: This is the second story in Volume Two of the Vastra/Jenny series and follows on immediately from the previous story, _The Case Of The Lost Sibling_.  
SUMMARY: Now investigating the horrific demise of Miss Ellen Hawthorne, Vastra and Jenny discover a mysterious temple beneath the streets of London.  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, please don't sue me  
CREDITS: This story is shamelessly, er, _borrowed_ from the Victoriana supplement _The Rise Of The Red God_ (spoilers, Sweetie).  
NOTES: There may be delays to the posting of the next story or two but they are on the way.  
POSTED: March 2014

* * *

With the shocking discovery of the demise of poor Ellen Hawthorne, Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint found themselves investigating not the disappearance of a much loved sibling but the rise of evil beneath the very streets of London.

Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint  
London, 1949

* * *

Vastra and Jenny stared in horror as the red mass drifted closer to the river bank. A few brave souls were still wading out into the cold, filthy water of the Thames, two of them stout uniformed officers and one their own Detective Constable Fletch. Jenny felt absurdly proud of the young man for a moment and then the horror hit her anew and she stared again at the once-pretty face that bobbed in the water below them.

Two of the women that Jenny had noticed before were also in the water, their plentiful but shapeless rags hitched up about their knees, exposing dirt stained flesh around which the edges of the red tide lapped.

Vastra leaned into Jenny and said, "My dear, who are those women?"

"Tide-waitresses, Madame," Jenny said without looking up, "Women who work the river. Ain't a job I'd want," she added, finally glancing at her friend, "but they survive on it."

"It may serve us to speak with one of these women."

"Aye, it would. And our friend down there might have something to say too. Come on."

Jenny once more grabbed at Vastra's arm and lead them through the thin group of people to a spot closer to the commotion below. They watched as the men and women used boat hooks and sticks to draw in the mass, shying away even as it came closer.

Eventually, the horror washed up on to the banks of the river and settled in stinking piles along the edge of the Thames. It twisted and shifted with the tide and still the undead eyes stared up at those who dared look upon them.

Vastra pushed herself away from the railing and hurried down the slippery steps to the water's edge. She hitched her own skirts up in careless bunches but thought nothing of the damage that the filth of the Thames might do to her expensive footwear. Jenny thought of it for a moment but set the thought aside just as quickly when they stepped on to the shifting banks and sloshed towards Fletch.

"Constable," Jenny said, though more from habit than teasing.

The young man looked up, appeared surprised and about to warn them away before he remembered to whom he was speaking and simply nodded a tense greeting. His eyes followed Jenny's down to the collection of body parts that stirred around his feet and he swallowed hard.

Vastra watched the young man for a moment more, taking in the deep green hue of his skin and wondering if there might be a little Silurian blood in his veins. She braced herself against the overwhelming horror and bent down to study the nearest corpse. It shifted as she did so and Vastra was pleased that the veil covered her reactions.

"Steady there, m'lady," one of the women said from beside her.

"I thank you for your concern, Miss...?"

"Ada, m'lady, I work this bit o'water."

Jenny squatted down beside Vastra, not expecting to keep her coat clean but still awkwardly attempting to lift it out of harms way. She studied Vastra as Vastra studied the fist that jutted out from the red mass.

The fist was clenched tight, the nails digging into the flesh of the palm. Vastra considered that flesh; deep gashes staining the skin that itself had a strange golden hue. She eased the edge of her veil up a little, feeling Jenny close in beside her to block any prying eyes, and allowed the tip of her tongue to dart out mere inches.

The stench of blood and filth almost knocked her backwards but she rallied, Jenny's hand coming to her back to hold on for a moment before Vastra regained her balance and settled into the uncomfortable pose once more. She tried again, this time set firm against the assault on her senses.

Beneath the smell of the river itself and the human blood that washed around them, there were other, more subtle odours. Wine, Vastra thought with a start, wine and oils. Something else too, though she could not identify it.

Vastra reached out and grabbed at the hand, trying not to think of their last encounter with such a severed limb. There was a muted gasp from behind her and then the air stilled as she reached with her other hand, took a good grip on the flesh and pulled it free from the dense mass around it.

With the fist gripped firm in Vastra's gloved hands, the wrist and lower arm swung below. No blood dripped from the exposed wound, though tendrils of flesh and thin strips of skin waved loose and brushed over the silt of the river's edge. The flesh was stippery and Vastra had to adjust her fingers to keep a firm hold on it.

She shifted her grip again and took hold of the lower arm with one hand while wrapping her fingers around those of the appendage in her grasp. She pried open the fingers until they fell back limp as if some faint echo of life had finally been extinguished.

Something fell from the fist, tumbling to the shifting ground. Jenny's hand darted out and grabbed for them before they were lost. She scrambled in the silt, gloved fingers plucking out the items before she presented them to Vastra in the palm of her open hand.

"'Ere," Ada said behind them, "she'd make a fine Gleaner, this'un."

There were three small items, little more than two inches around, each dulled by a thick coating of river grime and blood. Jenny played them around in her palm before selecting one and rubbing it clean on one of the few patches of her coat's hem that wasn't caked in muck.

Beneath the filth it had a lovely red colour, the stone seeming to shine from within. Jenny held it up to Vastra, moving her hand a little to have the winter sun catch it. The small amulet was marked with a deeper red pattern that resembled a beatle.

"A scarab, Madame."

"Indeed, my dear."

"And these," Jenny said, using the amulet to indicated the strips of what had appeared to be skin hanging from the severed arm, "These are bits of cloth."

"Cloth?" Fletch said over her shoulder.

"Then this is a great deal more than mass murder," Vastra said.

"I should say," Jenny hissed, "These poor bugger's have been mummifed."


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for story details.

* * *

"Up the duff, y'mean?" Ada said.

Fletch swallowed back a smile and said, "No, she means like the Egyptians."

"Bleedin' foreigners," Ada muttered before saying, "'Ere we go, the bigwigs've arrived."

The others craned their necks to see the Inspector making his unsteady way down the steps followed by a tall, thin man who seemed very aware of the value of his clothing in relation to the quantity of mud. Behind them came a shorter, grey haired gentleman carrying a gladstone bag.

"The esteemed Professor Litefoot," Vastra said to Fletch.

"Yes, Madame, and the tall chap's from the Ministry."

"Couldn't guess that," Jenny said, adding "Should we talk to them, Madame?"

Vastra straightned up and looked over the horror that surrounded them, "I would prefer not, I admit, but I do need a few moments to consider Miss Hawthorne's," she hesitated, "remains."

"Ada and me'll give you a minute or two," Jenny said, already shepherding an unwilling Ada towards the men.

"Pray, Detective Constable," Vastra said to the young man who looked uncertainly from the two young women to the three older men, "do keep the gentlemen safe."

Fletch made to hurry after them but the silt foiled him and he slipped and slid his way to intercept the group. Vastra turned away from them, hoping to block the casual eye from her activities. Ellen Hawthorne's head lay on the very edge of the water, only the weight of the mass beyond holding it in place. It had rolled slightly and now one cheek was pressed into the mud, the eyes still staring blindly.

Vastra tugged her feet free of the mud and took the few steps that allowed her to reach the head and lift it gently. It was severed unevenly at the fifth vertabrae and tendrils of flesh and skin hung in red clumps that had long since stopped dripping blood.

Vastra looked more closely and realised that it wasn't just skin that hung down but strips of the same thick material stained golden with the substance that had given the corpses such a strange skin tone. It was linen and that confirmed Jenny's theory but the knowledge offered more questions than it answered.

At that moment though, staring into the once-beautiful face of Miss Ellen Hawthorne, Vastra didn't care for theories or even explanations. She felt her anger rise up as if the red mass around her had seeped into her own body and was screaming for justice. Vastra felt her scales flare beneath the veil and press against her restrictive human garb.

She felt a gentle hand on her arm and came back to herself to find Jenny staring up at her, a concerned expression on the face that she knew so well.

"Vastra?" Jenny whispered, "Vastra, it's time to go; the gentleman are being less than gentlemanly. Especially that prat from the Ministry," Jenny added.

Vastra felt the rage dissappate and relaxed her body until she could turn to smile down at her companion, "Forgive me, Jenny," she said, "but I find myself quite angered by this situation."

"You and me both," Jenny said and studied the face that Vastra still held in a tight grip, "What that poor gal must have been through."

Jenny shivered but didn't turn away from the head. She took in the deep red gashes and the jagged flesh at the neck with an ease that would have startled her, had she been want to think of it. Instead, she considered the golden hue to the skin and the pale blue eyes.

"Poor thing deserves to rest in peace now, eh Madame?"

Vastra nodded and eased the head down again, placing it as gently as she could amid her companions in death. She looked around the river bank, staring hard at the shifting filth. Jenny looked down too and they spotted a few tiny patches of sparkling red in the green-black muck of the river bank. They both reached out at the same time, picking up the amulets that had broken free of the mass.

Jenny scrubbed at another one with her fingertip and held it up for Vastra's consideration. This one had a different marking, a strange little hieroglyph of a lion-headed figure standing upright. She made to say something but sensed movement heading in their direction and glanced around to see Fletch making his incomfortable way along the bank.

"You really must go now, ladies," he said, his face now equal parts red and green, "Allow me to escort you back to the Embankment."

They did as bidden, walking a little further down river to avoid having to cross paths with the Inspector and his party. Fletch gave an audible sigh of relief when their feet landed on firm London tarmacadem and Jenny patted his arm in sympathy as he handed Vastra up to safety.

They parted amicably and Vastra and Jenny were left to stare down on the horror of it all in an oddly detached manner. Jenny looked around for Ada but could not see the girl.

"Shame," she said to herself, "I'd have liked to have a chat with her."

"My dear?" Vastra said.

"Ada, Madame. I'd have liked to have had a chat with her; get a feel for the river and all."

"I'm sure we could -"

"Nah, best not bother. Back to the Hall, is it?"

Vastra looked down at Jenny's filth-covered, soaking wet clothing before considering her own, once immaculate coat with a wistful eye.

"Perhaps we should return home. Briefly, I assure you," she added quickly before Jenny could voice her objections, "to clean ourselves and don more appropriate clothing."

Jenny smiled ruefully, "Probably for the best. Though how we'll find a cabbie who'll take us anywhere in this state, I do not know."

They looked around for a Hansom that might be flagged down before the distracted driver could notice their attire. As they looked along the road, a voice from behind them called out and they turned back to see Simon Hawthorne hurrying in their direction.


	3. Chapter 3

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Hawthorne's face was pinched with worry, making him look much older than his years. His eyes darted out to the river and the thick, red ooze that still gathered on the bank. As he came closer, Jenny saw that they were red rimmed.

"Is she...?" he said.

"I am terribly sorry to have to inform you -" Vastra began.

Hawthorne interrupted, his voice cold as he said, "Yes, of course she is; that's what they've been doing, isn't it?"

Jenny glanced up at Vastra, then said, "They, Sir? Who have been doing what exactly?"

"I must go," Hawthorne said and turned suddenly.

Vastra's hand snapped out and grabbed at his arm, pulling him to a startled halt. He spun around, eyes flaring with anger for a moment before it burned itself out and he gave a sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"If you would be so good as to present your bill to my solicitor in the morning, ladies, he will settle things with you. Now, if you'll excuse me," and he made to turn again.

Vastra still had a firm hold on him and he barely moved an inch before she locked him in place once more. He hadn't raised his eyes to them.

"You've known what this business is all along," Jenny said.

"Something to do with the activities of the Egyptian Hall, Mr Hawthorne," Vastra added.

Now his eyes lifted, flaring again before they simmered dangerously, the gaze drifting across the river for a moment before he said, "I had hoped not. My sister and Akil thought my fears unfounded."

"Fears, Sir?"

He said nothing so Vastra spoke instead, "You believe that the Professor is abducting young men and most particularly young women to experiment upon. Those experiments being in the line of ancient techniques to mummify the dead. Perhaps more than mummify, yes? You perhaps also have some inkling of the reasons for these activities? Political...religious...more?"

"It really would help us if you'd explain what's going on, Sir," Jenny said, "Given that we're about to go off there and sort this business out."

"You must not!" Hawthorne shouted. He calmed himself, casting an apologetic look to the startled young man who was walking past them at that moment, his horrified attention previously held by the river. Hawthorne sighed, "Ladies, I thank you for investigating this matter but I must ask that you allow me to deal with it from here on. It really is no business for gentlewomen."

"Well, that's alright then," Jenny said, "since neither of us is one."

That earned her an amused twitch of Vastra's veil and an appraising look from the young man.

Vastra said, "What Miss Flint means to say, is that we are somewhat more experienced in such matters than you might expect, Mr Hawthorne, and quite determined to see this investigation to its conclusion."

"Yeah, that too," Jenny added.

Hawthorne considered them for a long moment more before saying, "I insist on coming with you."

"No, Mr Haw-" Vastra began but Jenny interrupted her.

"Yes, I suppose you do. But listen to me and listen well: You do as the Madame says and you don't speak of what you see ever after. Understood?"

Suddenly Jenny was twice her natural size and quite the most dangerous thing Vastra had ever seen. Mr Hawthorne too, judging by the startled set of his face and the manner in which he leaned away from the smaller form.

"Mr Hawthorne," she said when he appeared to have regained his wits, "you will meet Miss Flint and I on the corner of Bond Street in precisely one hour. You will await our arrival," and now Vastra gave him the full force of her own personality, "and you will do nothing without our say so. Do you understand, Mr Hawthorne?"

* * *

But alas he did not, Vastra thought, as they both dropped down from the Hansom cab that had pulled up just in sight of the Hall a little over an hour later. They had returned home, though it had cost Jenny's purse dear to persuade a driver to take them in their bedraggled state. They had changed quickly and said little as they met in the hallway of their home now wearing what Jenny had taken to describing as their "work clothes".

"I do wish we'd invested in some better weapons, Madame," she had said as she held up two long knives, "but I thought these might do us."

"I fear long swords would be somewhat obvious as we walk along Bond Street, my dear," Vastra said but didn't refuse the dirk that Jenny offered. She tucked it into her gilet and smiled at her companion, "but we will consult with Colonel Adams on the morrow and direct our purchases on his advice."

Jenny gripped her own dirk tightly, "Wouldn't mind a couple of them Japanese swords."

Vastra could do nothing but agree. Still, they donned their spare overcoats and Vastra her veil and gloves before she made her way out to hail a cab. Jenny followed, closing the door behind her and coming to Vastra's side.

She held out her hand and said, "Do you want these, Madame?"

Vastra looked down to see the small, red amulets cupped in Jenny's palm. They were pretty little stones, beautifully cut and marked, if not the colour one would expect for such items. From a cursory glance they appeared to show many different symbols, though three in particular seemed to recur. Vastra held her own palm open and Jenny deposited them into her hand just as a cab rumbled by.

Now, standing on the cold London street as the daylight ebbed away, Vastra wished that she had taken a little more time to consider the amulets and what they might mean. She sensed that they had a value much greater than their beauty or even their supposed occult power. There was more to this than petty human politics or even misplaced religious devotion, Vastra was sure. Something else was going on and she wanted it dealt with before more young women came to harm.

She wished too that Hawthorne were here already - wished that Jenny had never agreed to his presence, indeed - and that they might get this terrible business over and done with before the cold winter's night crept into her blood.

"'Ere, you back again?" The young guttersnipe who they had met earlier appeared by Jenny's side and considered them knowingly. "Hope you're not waiting for that chappy; he's gone in ahead of ya."

"Youngish chap, dark hair?" Jenny said.

"One 'n' the same. Tried to go in through the front door," the lad shook his head knowingly, "but they put paid to that."

"In what way?" Vastra said.

"Three of 'em came out at him. Two of them big blokes and a funny, little chap. Reckon he might have been your Professor one; had one of them daft hats on," he added, waving his hand over his head.

"And what did they do with him?"

"Oh, well, Madame, that information'd -" he started but it ended with another yelp of pain and the lad clutching his ear with both hands. He glared up at Jenny and said, "A'right, a'right, bleedin'ell you really are 'andy, ain't ya?" He regained his composure and pulled one hand from his ear to indicate the Hall, "They bundled the bloke inside."

"Good lad," Jenny said, though her glare had not abated, "Now you run around and gather all your little mates up, get the lot of them away from here as fast as ever you can."

"Dangerous?" the lad said, eyeing her carefully, "Really?"

"Potentially catastrophic," Vastra said, leaning close to his ear, "Now go."


	4. Chapter 4

See Part One for story details.

* * *

With the lad out of sight, Vastra and Jenny made their way to the front of the Hall. The door was locked, the upper windows shuttered. They scouted around the side of the building but there was no sign of anyone, though there were signs of much traffic.

They returned to the front once more and Vastra stood tall in the doorway as Jenny bent down to attack the lock. It took a little longer than most in the face of Jenny's remarkable talent and required the use of some choice expressions but after a few minutes, there came the familiar grunt of triumph and the door opened.

They eased inside, closing the door behind them with a click that seemed to ring out around the vestibule. There was no-one inside, the place darkened, the exhibits standing alone. Both women pulled off their coats, bundling them up and hiding them behind one of the stands. Vastra thought for a moment before adding her veil and gloves to the pile but transferring the amulets from her coat pocket to her gilet at the last moment.

She lead the way to the door marked Private and again Jenny had to pull the lockpicks from her waistcoat. It took less time and they were quickly through and into a short corridor that had a door set on either side and a smaller door at the end.

The first was a general office. Jenny glanced up at Vastra, who nodded to indicate that they should enter. The room held two small tables and some broken down display cabinets that had been repurposed to hold files.

The women looked around the room, rifling through the papers on each table until Jenny held something up. It was piece of paper, printed with a letterhead but with handwritten marks.

"Shipping notice from St Katherine's," Jenny explained, "Six barrels of natron, Madame; it's the salt they use for making the mummies."

"Six barrels?" Vastra emphasised the number.

"You pull the insides out and stuff them with -"

"Yes, thank you, my dear," Vastra said quickly, "I believe I understand the process."

Jenny smirked, "Sorry, Madame."

"Indeed. Now," she looked around, "let us move on."

"Oh, hold on," Jenny stopped her, lifting a second sheet of paper from the desk. She considered it for a moment and then said, "Why would this place have the shipping papers for Garricks Tailors do you think, Madame?"

"Why indeed. I believe we may have solved the disappearance of more of those poor girls. Now," Vastra gave the room one last look, "shall we?"

They slipped from the room, though there was still no sign of life in the Hall. Vastra opened the other door and hesitated. Jenny gave her a slight push and they walked into a study. It was the same size as the first room but far more ornately decorated and far warmer too. The banked fire still smoldered a little giving off the occasional hiss and pop that joined the loud ticking of two mantel clocks.

"That one's out," Jenny said.

"Two hours. The time in Egypt, I believe."

"Nice place this," Jenny said as she moved to the large desk and began to look through the books, "All Eygptian myths and stuff, Madame. You'd think they'd know everything by now."

"Though not, apparently, how to complete the ritual they are attempting," Vastra muttered.

"What do you think they're really doing? More than just making mummies, surely?"

Vastra considered, her eyes still skimming the bookshelf beside her. She made to speak but stopped, her hand reaching out for one of the books. She offered it to Jenny and said, "According to the elder Hawthornes, perhaps."

Jenny took the book, noting the author names and reading the title aloud, "'Death And Resurrection In Ancient Egypt'. Now that's something our Mr Hawthorne failed to mention."

She continued to search the desk and bookshelves as Vastra considered the room. It stank of hatred and bile, rang with a thirst for power that was all too much a part of these human creatures.

"Vastra? Are you all right?" Jenny said, suddenly at her side once more.

Vastra smiled down at her friend, "I confess, this business raises my," she considered the word, "hackles, as you might say, in a way that I find most uncomfortable."

"Well, my-one wants raised hackles, least of all a lizard."

"Quite, my dear," Vastra relaxed at the teasing, the worst of her tension slipping away. She guided Jenny from the room and pointed to the final door, saying, "The cellar, perhaps?"

They walked to the smaller door and found it locked. Jenny got to work again and the lock gave easily enough but the door would not open.

"Bolted on the inside," Jenny said, "Hold on a tick."

She ran back to the study and returned with a long paper knife, thin but obviously well wrought. She worked at the slither of a gap between door and frame, easing the knife through before levering it up and down. After a few moments of fierce concentration, the top bolt gave and just seconds later, the lower fell prey to Jenny's skills.

Jenny kept her grip on the paper knife as she eased the door open. It squeaked alarmingly and they froze, listening intently at the opening until they were sure that they had raised no alarm. The steep, wooden steps were slippery with damp, the air stale and tinged with the scent of the sewers.

"You really do bring me to the best places, Madame," Jenny whispered as Vastra passed her on the steps and lead the way down into the low cellar.

The rough hewn walls were slick with damp, the floor thick with sawdust and what looked like the broken down remains of old exhibits. There were crates and barrels, planks of wood and a few huge pots of gold paint. It could pass for the cellar of any exhibition hall, if it wasn't for the splashes of blood that matted the sawdust and stained the planks.

"Look at this," Jenny hissed.

She had moved off to the side and was studying a pile of old, painted wood. Vastra joined her and considered the wreakage carefully. She glanced at Jenny in question.

"Reckon it's old Sir Reg's sarcophagus. But why nick it just to leave it like this?"

"Because they wanted whatever was inside," Vastra said, straightening up.

"But the only thing inside one of...oh," Jenny finished slowly, "Bodysnatching too."

"But to what end, my dear?"

Vastra didn't answer her own question, her eye caught by something on the floor a few yards away. Jenny followed her gaze and wondered what she'd seen. Then the chaos of the floor resolved itself and she realised what her friend was looking at.

The dank, matted sawdust lay thick across most of the cellar floor but over there, in amongst the piles of wood and such, a clear path had been cut through the detritus. It lead from the bottom of the stairs, around the mess and off to the far wall. Off, in fact, to an upright sarcophagus that appeared in far better condition than anything upstairs even.

Jenny gripped the paper knife tightly and looked to Vastra. A faint nod was her only answer and they made there way to the sarcophagus without another word. It appeared to be intact, the wood well cut, the paint faded but the images still clearly visible. Hieroglyphics mostly, Jenny realised, though there were a few swirling decorations too.

Vastra reached out and eased the door open. The sarcophagus was empty, the back solid. Jenny made to step inside but Vastra held her back.

"Allow me, my dear."

Jenny reluctantly allowed Vastra to take the lead. Her tall form filled the space as she stepped inside. She braced her arms on the back of the sarcophagus and gave a firm shove. The wood creaked but held. Vastra's hands pressed up and down the panel before she moved both to one side and gave another heft.

The wood creaked again but this time it was followed by a long, slow sound like stone pushed along stone. The entire back panel swung away and opened onto a narrow passageway that dropped down at a steep angle.


	5. Chapter 5

See Part One for story details.

* * *

In the passageway, the walls began as brick, then became rough hewn stone, which then gave way to smooth granite that bore long lines of hieroglyphics. More and more of them appeared as Vastra and Jenny dropped down below the Hall until the walls on both sides of them were covered in intricately carved lines of pictograms.

It was easy enough to see them in the dim illumination of flambeaux set high on the walls. The light each cast was steady, unaffected by the faint movement of air that came from below them. The air was thick with incense and beneath that the smells of earth and the sewers.

There was a sound too. A buzzing that had been barely audible when they first entered the passageway but was growing ever louder. It wasn't enough to drown out their hushed comments but it was certainly enough to trouble them both.

Jenny rubbed at her head, "I hope that stops soon."

Vastra attempted to ignore the stench of the sewer and the incessant noise, focusing on the scent of the Earth instead. Jenny shook her head violently and walked on ahead until the passage curved and then opened onto a round, heavily deocorated area at the far end of which stood a large portal.

Vastra reached out and held Jenny back, acknowledging her companion's annoyance with a faint smile as she eased around Jenny once more. A huge stone door stood in the centre of a circular wall set into the rock itself, all of which was set into a circular plinth.

"Not bad workmanship that," Jenny whispered, "How'd they get it down here?"

Vastra merely shrugged and stepped up to the plinth, Jenny close behind her. They stared at the intricately detailed hieroglyphs that showed clear on the pale stone. Around the door itself, carved into the stone frame, more hieroglyphs ran vertically. Each was set into its own separate square.

Vastra reached out to the door and pushed hard. It remained still, all off Vastra's considerable strength absorbed by the slab of stone. There was no latch or handle, no grooves in the stone where such might have been. Vastra pushed again despite herself, angry to be kept from her prey.

Jenny moved around Vastra once more and reached out for the frame.

"Be careful, my dear," Vastra said as she stepped back but Jenny had already pressed down on one of the hieroglyphs.

The square of stone gave under her touch, pressing back into the frame itself. The hierogyph lit up, casting an eery red glow in the dim light. There was a grinding sound and then silence. Jenny glanced back at Vastra who made to speak but Jenny turned away again and pressed a second stone, then a third.

"No, Jenny!" Vastra called out.

But too late. The gentle grinding of the stones was swallowed up by the sounds of heavy slabs shifting. The ground vibrated beneath them and Vastra took another hasty step backwards, her hands shooting out to grab at Jenny but failing as the stones at their feet suddenly lurched and split. The floor parted to leave a gaping hole immediately beneath Jenny. She scrambled to get hold of something...anything that might save her but her legs dropped from under her and she fell.

Vastra lunged forward, her arms thrust into the hole. She watched in horror as Jenny fell from her, swallowed by the darkness. And then the stones were closing over the gap, moving so quickly that Vastra had to rip her hands clear before the edges slammed together.

She howled out her rage with no care for her surroundings, the primal sounds filling the chamber and echoing out along the passageway. She scrambled at the stones, the join barely visible now, dug her fingers into the faint line and clawed madly. Her fingers could gain no purchase, the thick, Silurian skin grazing against the cold stone.

Vastra stood and smashed down with her boots, then bent again, drawing the dirk and trying to lever the gap open enough to allow her fingers to slip between. It was madness, she knew. At least, what little was left of her thinking self knew, though her cultured, rational mind was almost entirely consumed by an ancient rage.

Fighting for control, Vastra paced around the chamber, fists pounding at the walls, though careful not to strike at the frame around the doorway. When she had vented enough of her fury to focus, she took a few steps back and studied the entrance carefully. She could still feel the passions swirling around her but she curled her hands into tight fists and hugged them about herself until she was finally calm.

As she relaxed her arms, her hands fell to her sides and brushed against her pockets. Vastra glanced down and considered the material, unsure for a moment what made one bulge so. Her hand reached in and pulled out the red amulets that she and Jenny had taken from the riverbank.

She rolled the little red trinkets around her palm with the tip of her thumb, considering the markings carefully, then looked up to study the hierogyphs on the door frame. Checking the ground with a cautious poke of her boot, Vastra approached the portal once more, holding up her hand to look at the amulets at the same time.

There were many different designs amongst them and many more on the frame itself. Of the amulets, there were the symbols expected of Egyptian trinkets - ankh, scarab and the like - but there were three others, more telling to Vastra's eye. A figure kneeling, hand on chest; another standing, hand behind head; and then a lion-like figure, upstanding and proud. Each of those symbols was represented around the portal. But in which order should they come?

Even with her greater reach, she could never test her theory while remaining out of range of the gaping hole beneath. She had but one chance, Vastra realised and closed her eyes to consider the problem. Her eyes opened suddenly and she pressed at the hierogylphs before she had time to doubt herself.

Again the grinding as the stone squares sank beneath her fingers, again the eery glow. But not the seismic shifting of stones. Vastra stared down between her feet, daring the ground to move. It did not and she let out a long, gush of air, surprised to find that she had been holding her breath.

Then more grinding, louder but not beneath her. The entire portal shook, dust dancing in the air as the central slab of stone swung away to reveal another passage beyond. Vastra bent down to retrieve her discarded dirk, tucking it back into its place before stepping through.


	6. Chapter 6

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny tumbled and fell, a straight drop for what felt like miles before she bounced along hard, sloping ground and was funnelled down a long shaft of rough hewn rock. She landed with a heavy thud, the air knocked from her lungs, her ears ringing and body screaming in protest.

It took some time before she could move and she considered her surroundings while she waited for her body to return to her. The air here was thick with the stench of sewage, misty with some vapour that shifted and curled around her. Jenny put her hands down to push up from the floor and they slipped and squelched.

She grimaced, trying not to think what she might have covered herself in. It didn't smell like waste though, smelled more like the evil scent of the red mass. She got up in a rush, turning this way and that to consider the thick red ooze that coated her arms and back.

Jenny bent over and vomited noisily enough to drown out even the buzzing that filled her head, not able to quiet herself until her heaving had subsided. She ran a hand up and down the mostly-clean front of her waistcoat, then wiped her mouth with it, hoping that she hadn't left too much of a red stain.

Finally, she looked around her again. The mist danced about her ankles, the air coloured with a strange red hue. She was in some sort of chamber with low but wide corridors running away from her fore and aft, the opening from which she had dropped looming above.

She shuffled forward a few steps and almost tripped on something that barely poked out from the mist at her feet. She bent down, playing her hand through the mist until it caught on something. Pulling it up, Jenny stared in horror at the gnawed bone. It was long and thin. A leg bone, she guessed. And human.

Gingerly, she tested the ground around her with the tip of her boot but it failed to catch again. Jenny turned on the spot, looking down one corridor and then the next. She had no idea which way was which or, indeed, which was safer.

"Safer!" Jenny muttered to herself.

She closed her eyes for a moment and picked a path at random. Decision made, she left the room in the opposite direction. Patting at her belt, she found the dirk still firmly enscounced in its sheath. She drew it and held it out before her. The paper knife had gone during her fall and she felt the loss of even such a blade more deeply than she had expected.

* * *

Above and a little behind Jenny, Vastra stalked down the long passageway. It too was ornately decorated with hierogyphs and it too rang with the same buzzing sound. Vastra had a better eye for the symbols now and recognised the pattern that she had used to open the portal behind her as it recurred along the wall.

The passage seemed to go on forever, gently sloping as it went until Vastra was sure that she must be far beneath the city. It broadened a little and began to curve away to Vastra's left. The air, heavy with incense and hazy with a red smoke, was warmer as she eased around the curve and found that it opened on to another chamber with little warning.

She had little warning certainly but neither did the two robed figures who stood on either side of a second portal. Dirk already in hand, mind alert and rage still bubbling beneath her skin, Vastra attacked immediately. One of the figures had his hood pushed a little way back. It was enough of an opening for her tongue to lash out and fell him before either had realised her presence.

In but a moment more the dirk stood proud of the second figure's chest. The creature beneath folded into itself, falling to the ground with a muted thud. Vastra stalked over to them and ripped back the hood from one. A man, swarthy skinned but pale eyed, those same symbols marking the skin of his cheek.

The second was much the same. She yanked her blade free from his flesh and wiped it clean on the shoulder of his robe. There was little hope of hiding the bodies so she dragged them as far into the corners of the chamber as they could go, hoping that they would not be missed from their guard duty before she was clear of the area.

The portal opened to the same combination as the first and it swung up easily. Vastra hid herself behind the stone pillar as it opened and listened intently. There was no shouting, no rushing of feet. She peeked around the door and saw an empty corridor, flat and of normal height and width. She slipped through, hugging the wall as she made her slow way towards the first door.

It was wooden and looked much like the doors in the Hall itself. She opened it slowly and was startled to find another study, this one almost an exact match to that above. Even the sounds of two clocks ticking loud on the mantel were the same, with the clocks set to the same times.

Vastra considered the room for a moment. As far as she could tell, the only difference between the two rooms was that above, the desk held books, while below, the desk held scrolls of deeply stained papyrus. She wanted to study the contents of those ancient sheets but knew that she must move on.

Easing the door closed behind her, she moved to the next and listened. There was no sound from within, though a noise from further down the corridor made her freeze. She waited but the sound did not approach. Voices, Vastra realised and as she listened ever more attentively, they resolved themselves into a chant; the constant drone of human voices together in plainsong.

Vastra breathed again and slowly opened the door. The air was thick with incense and she had to struggle not to cough aloud. Slipping inside, she found herself in a small, cramped altar room. The opposite wall was rich with carvings and daubed with bright reds and yellows.

The centre of the room was filled with two long, narrow slabs of granite that ran away from Vastra. Each held a single occupant laid out in a formal pose, hands resting one atop the other over the chest. Both were young men. One was Simon Hawthorne and the other a man of roughly the same age but of Egyptian descent. Akil Hasan, Vastra assumed.

Vastra checked their pulses and found them both alive, though their breathing was shallow and their skin deathly pale. Hasan's body was showing signs of dehydration and malnourishment; he had been kept in such a state for some time.

Large, painted amphora stood in lines along the edges of the room and there were ornately carved boxes atop the altar. The room stank of blood and incense and looked much like that in Sir Reginald's painting.

Vastra was frozen with indecision, knowing that she should wake the young men and help them to safety but refusing to consider the possibility of leaving this place without Jenny. And what was this place? Such an ornate complex beneath the streets of London? It was unthinkable.

Unthinkable, at least, for mere humans to accomplish.


	7. Chapter 7

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny walked out into another chamber. Here, the symbols that covered the stone were obliterated. Scratched away by long, jagged claw marks, Jenny realised as she considered them in the dull illumination of the small flambeaus above. They seemed to burn endlessly, though there was no sign of anyone tending them.

Jenny looked up to consider the torches more carefully when a sound from the next passage made her freeze. It was a low purring sound, more a vibration that troubled the air around her, distrupting the buzzing that filled her head. Jenny shifted the grip on her dirk and turned in a slow arc until she was peering down the far corridor. Peering because the light was much dimmer than it had been moments before.

And then the darkness shifted and resolved itself into a huge creature. Jenny stumbled back, struggling to keep her feet beneath her as the beast opened its jaws and roared. She took another step back, staring up into the long, matted mane of a lion. Its eyes were wide and mad with rage, its fur stained dark with blood and waste. It was mangy and weakened by its life in the darkness but it was still a terrifying sight to behold.

The gaunt face loomed over her, the front paw lifting to swat and Jenny thrust out with the dirk. The blade caught deep into the creature's flesh and it howled in pain. The sound filled the chamber, deafening Jenny who was desperately trying to free her knife from the thick knot of muscle.

The flesh gave with a cruel sucking sound and the dirk was free but Jenny's strength was concentrated on pulling back and the sudden loss of a counterpoint caused her to overbalance, crashing down to the mist and filth-covered ground with a loud grunt. The creature advanced, favouring its uninjured side but just as strong as before and ever more terrifying. The maw opened wide, the sharp teeth cutting jagged lines in Jenny's vision, the gust of stinking breath covering her face.

Jenny pulled her legs up into her chest and pushed out with her feet, striking as hard as ever she could at the beast. The head lifted mid-roar, the chest was exposed and Jenny caught it a powerful blow in the throat. She felt the impact through her whole body, her knees wrenched, her legs screaming in pain but she dared not let up, putting all of her strength behind the movement.

The lion's head jerked back, a strangled, gasping sound coming deep from its chest, a hideous snapping loud from it's neck. It staggered back, head drooping at a strange angle, tongue lolling out, blood trickling from its mouth. Jenny scrambled backwards on her elbows, pulling herself up in the far corner of the chamber until she was in a low crouch.

She ignored the burning pain in her legs and stood as best she could. Her eyes never left the beast as it sank into the filth, it's huge head tilted at an odd angle so that one eye was covered by the red mist, it's gaping mouth open and gasping for breath. She stared down as the creature's chest rose and fell in ever shallower breaths and felt a tear cool her burning cheeks as what had just happened came crashing down upon her.

Jenny felt her eyes closing, her grip on the dirk relaxing and she shook herself hard, certain that she could not afford to lose her focus even for a moment. She hesitated no more, picking her way through the mist around the edge of the room and slipping into the corridor just as the lion gave up its final breath.

* * *

Vastra felt her ire rise as she stood, frozen with indecision. She was not familiar with the sensation, not wanting to allow herself to become so affected by a choice that should have been self-evident. These young men required her assistance and were here, awaiting it immediately. Jenny was... Vastra's chest constricted at the very thought... Jenny was lost, perhaps not even alive.

"No," Vastra hissed, her Silurian heritage sounding clear in the single word.

No, Jenny was alive and she would find her, rescue her from whatever ills had befallen the young woman and get them both away from this place. She tried to wake the young men, not sure if she wanted them with her in her search or to send them back to the surface with word for the Inspector. It was useless though; all attempts to rouse them proving fruitless as they slept on in their strange, comatose state.

She would have to leave them and place faith in the Goddess - or plain luck - that they would remain here until she and Jenny could return for them. With that decision made, she felt her vigour renewed and turned to the door with a surge of determination.

It was almost her undoing. She made to open the door, to leave the room without considering what might await her in the corridor beyond. Her fingers on the handle, arm tensed to open it, Vastra froze once more. She pressed her ear to the wood and forced herself to calm.

There were sounds outside, movement approaching this very door. Vastra shrank back into the corner of the room, her back pressed against the side wall, her feet placed carefully to ensure that she did not upset the nearest amphora. She waited, listening to the sounds outside, watching the handle of the door intently. When it turned and the door began to open, she leaned forward, her jaw relaxing.

There were two robed figures, both side on to her, both hoods pulled low to cover their faces. Vastra cursed her ill luck but leapt forward, knocking the figures into each other and sending them tumbling into the wall opposite. Two amphora fell as the figures fought to regain their balance and a thick, golden liquid spilled out. It smelled strongly of the unidentified odour from the riverbank and left the stone floor slick, causing the men to struggle even more.

Vastra was upon the nearest, her dirk sinking deep into his neck. She looked away, rage burning in her eyes to find her gaze met by a young man's terrified expression. He was little more than Hawthorne's age, his skin pockmarked and pale beneath the markings. Vastra's tongue lashed out but she couldn't make the killing strike. He fell unconscious and upturned another amphora, this one disgorging a pile of salt.

Vastra cursed her weakness but wasted no time in removing the young man's robe. She donned it quickly, tugging on it to try to cover more of her longer legs. Neither of the robed men was as tall as she and though the first was a little taller, his robe was torn and stained from her attack. She freed the dirk from his chest, cursing yet again.

After a moment to settle her rage, Vastra dragged the bodies to the other side of the room, trying to hide them from view of the doorway but knowing that they might be discovered at any moment.

There was nothing more that she could do and Vastra left the room without a look back.


	8. Chapter 8

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny stumbled along the passage on unsteady legs. Her heart still raced from the aftermath of the lion's attack, the buzzing growing ever louder and the stench increasing too. The reason for the latter became all too obvious when she stepped into yet another chamber to find the red- and gold-stained corpses of young women piled high.

At least half a dozen of them, Jenny realised and she leaned against the wall to steady herself once more. The women's skin was stained golden with some sort of oil, the skin torn by deep, jagged claw marks that left shredded skin and linen hanging loose from exposed flesh and bone.

Jenny turned and pressed her head against the wall, expecting it to be cooling but finding it warm to her touch. She tucked the dirk into her belt and held her palms to the stone, taking time to steady her breathing and calm herself. When she turned back, she considered the chamber more carefully. There were long vents on the far wall, vents that opened onto the sewer channel that ran alongside the chamber.

Jenny's nose wrinkled in disgust but at least she now understood how the red mass had found its way into the river above. A few days of heavy rain or a strong tide and anything could wash up into the Thames and often did. She pushed herself away from the wall and looked to the end of the chamber, finding the passageway blocked by what looked like the entrance to a prison cell. Testing the door, Jenny found it locked from the other side.

The lockpicks were in her hand in a moment and Jenny felt better for the opportunity to do something that she knew so well. It took some little effort to ease her arms through the bars while keeping a comfortable grip on the tools but she managed it and the lock itself was barely worthy of the name.

The door opened with an unhealthy creaking sound and Jenny eased it shut as carefully as she could. She stared back through the bars, mourning the deaths of the young women whose names she might never know and cursing the evil that had left them to rot in such a place.

Turning away, she continued down the passageway to find a wooden door at the end.

* * *

Vastra too had her hands pressed close to the stone, sensing the heat and vibration. She was moving closer to the chanting, the words distinct now as they reached her. The corridor had opened into a much wider space, the walls curving away from her. It appeared to be some sort of entrance space to the central area of whatever this place might be. The hierogylphs were ever more detailed, the same three symbols repeated over and over again.

A few doors dotted the outer wall as it curved around. Vastra carefully opened each and peered inside, ready to attack at any moment. They were all unattended, all storage rooms for yet more amphora, scrolls or artifacts. From the voices that rang out in chant, Vastra thought that there must be six or seven people in the main chamber. If they were armed, she would be at a disadvantage; unarmed and she might be able to quell their resistance alone.

Even thinking that word made her chest ache so she set the thought aside and focused on the sounds and smells of the place. The air was heavier still with the scent of incense and resin. The same stench of death lay beneath that, though not so strong as it had by the river. And that buzzing sawed through her head, the floors and walls vibrating. All of it heightened Vastra's rage and she allowed it to fill her chest and focus her mind.

* * *

Jenny slipped through the door and stepped into a curving space that appeared to wrap around an inner area. She heard a roar and wondered if another lion was nearby. It came again and she recognised it. She was running before the realisation had settled into her mind or her body had chance to protest.

There were doors on one side of her but she ignored them all, running on heedless of any danger to herself. The chanting had stopped, replaced by cries of alarm and anger. An opening came into view up ahead, set into the curved, heavily decorated wall. Jenny raced on, spurred by the noises within.

She skidded on the stone floor, turning sharply as she reached the opening and charging inside. It was a large space with a tall altar at one end that stood on a dais of two parts. The altar was adorned with a huge painted representation of a human female form but topped by the proud head of a lion. The woman wore a long red dress that sheathed her body from shoulder to ankles, hugging her every curve.

Either side of the image there were swords hung in crossed pairs. Jenny considered making a grab for them but dismissed the idea. The lower section of the dais held a waist-height slab that supported a golden sarcophagus. A strange light danced inside but there was something else in there that shaped the light as it cast its glow on the ceiling above. Jenny stretched her neck and caught sight of a white-bound form.

A robed figure flew before her eyes, forcing Jenny to bend away from the streak of red. She turned in the direction from which it had come, ignoring the loud thud and howl of pain as human body hit hard stone. Vastra fought three more of the robed figures on the other side of the long room. A series of large statues stood at the perimeter, each a variation on the last, each a lion-headed woman. Vastra was using them as a shield, dancing between the plinths, darting behind the idols.

The robed figures - two of them bulky, the third much more slender - were attempting to hem her in. A few yards away, two more figures hesitated to join the fray. Jenny sensed movement on the altar and looked up to see the Professor stepping out from behind what she had thought was a solid wall, yanking the hood from his face and staring in outrage.

She looked back and saw that Vastra had been trapped between the statues. The hoods of the men stopped Vastra from using her natural attack and she appeared to have lost her own knife. Jenny didn't hesitate, she ran forward again, dirk held tight in her right hand, left shoulder lowered. She charged the nearest man, heedless of her own safety, her smaller form catching him in the side and lifting him from his feet.

Jenny allowed her momentum to carry them both away from Vastra, hoping that her friend would be able to fight off the others while she kept this one occupied. They landed heavily, Jenny making sure that every ounce of her slight weight counted against the man. She heard the rush of air as it was forced from his lungs, felt the jolt as they bounced along the hard floor.

Vastra felt more than saw Jenny's presence and then one of the robed figures was tumbling away from her, a small but very determined ball of angry human sending him sprawling. The second figure turned in surprise and Vastra lunged at him, feeling his weak bones snap under her assault. He gave a gasp of pain and collapsed.

Vastra caught the falling body and threw it at the slender figure who had decided to step into the fray. He raised his arms to fend off the attack but was too weak to redirect the mass as it barrelled into him. The other two figures were approaching now, goadied into action by the Professor, though Vastra could still sense their hesitation. One was obviously holding back and the loud voice chided him for his cowardice.

It was his undoing, his attack all feined bravado and no skill. Vastra had his fallen body at her feet in moments. The other figure was more reticient but perhaps more skilled too. Vastra took the opportunity to give herself greater space and took a long stride away from the statues.

She glanced down to see Jenny swatting away the meaty punches of the other man. She stabbed and poked at his hands and face with the tip of the dirk, struggling to regain her feet as she did so. The man was much larger and, despite his bulk, seemed to be quite nibble. Vastra felt fear lap at the edges of her rage; she could not allow her friend to be hurt.

The last of the robed figures took advantage of her momentary distraction and lunged at her. A pugilist, Vastra thought as his right fist connected with her jaw. Her head snapped back but it only served to reignite her passion. She ripped at the robe with her hands, shredding the hood from his face and chest.

He was another young man but he had the hard eyes of a creature ill used and angry about it. He bent away from Vastra's second attack and bought his left fist up to land a hefty blow. Vastra ducked beneath it and rose up closer still. There was a moment's pause, a tiny slither of time when they each stared into the other's eyes...and then it was gone and Vastra's tongue was lashing out at the man's exposed skin.

The force of the close contact lifted him from his feet and sent him backwards in a surprisingly graceful dive. Vastra turned, prepared to rip Jenny's assailant to asunder, only to find her companion watching on appreciatively as she rubbed at the knuckles of her right hand and stretched out her back.


	9. Chapter 9

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Vastra considered the bulky figure who writhed in agony on the floor behind her friend, his hands clutched between his legs, his body curled into a foetal position, splashes of blood staining his robe an even darker red. She nodded to Jenny but whatever they might have said in greeting was interrupted by a cry of rage and the fast approaching footsteps of the Professor.

The women turned to see the man stomping down from the dais, a sicklesword from the altar display held uncomfortably in both hands. Held too far away from his body and too low to protect himself from Vastra's tongue, which felled him on the spot. The blade tumbled from his hands as he hit the ground and skittered towards them. Jenny bent down to pick it up, looking Vastra up and down as she rose.

"That's not your colour at all, Madame."

Vastra glanced down at the too-short robe and then considered Jenny's gory attire, "Or indeed yours, my dear."

Jenny took a hesitant step forward before rushing on and wrapping her arms around Vastra's torso. The flat of the blade pressed into Vastra's back but she ignored the sensation and concentrated on the warmth of her friend. They clung together for long moments, each intensely aware of the contact. Vastra raised her hands, holding Jenny closer to her. Jenny allowed the pommel to slip from her grasp so that she could dig her hands into the back of Vastra's gilet.

She looked up to smile into Vastra's face but the familiar features were already shifting into a hard stare that was focused on the dais above them. Jenny turned to stare up at the altar that was now awash in sparkling lights that danced across the stone and reflected off the artifacts that decorated the large space.

"Someone's putting on a show," Jenny whispered.

She regretted discarding the sword and edged around Vastra until she could bend down gingerly and retrieve it. Before she could straighten up there was a loud fanfare and a beam of light shot forth from inside the sarcophagus. It flared and dimmed again, leaving only a faint glow that bathed the altar and clearly showed that the sarcophagus was now empty.

Vastra felt Jenny's hand bumping against her side and glanced down to see the stained dirk pressed towards her. She raised a brow and Jenny said, "You seem to have lost yours," before adding, "I'll keep the sword, if you don't mind."

"Thank you, my dear. I fear I was lax at the beginning of the altercation."

Jenny tutted mildly but said nothing as they looked up to see that the bright glow was shifting again, darkened by something inside the sarcophagus itself. Another fanfare rang out and then a form rose up from within. It stood in one fluid motion, rising as if some invisible machine had lifted it from resting to standing.

Jenny gasped, staring wide-eyed at the human figure before them. It was a woman, tall and as beautifully proportioned as the image on the altar, with long legs and ample breasts clad in a tight, red dress that clung to every inch of her form. Above, though still held proud and straight, was not the head of a lioness but that of a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair braided with red beads.

She turned in place and held out a perfectly manicured hand as if expecting a robed figure to help her down. There was a moment of confusion, then the dark eyes cleared and the head turned in a slow arc to take in the fallen men around the room. It stopped when the burning gaze fixed on Vastra and Jenny. Eyes that darkened still further as she took in the women.

That same hand extended towards them, a finger pointing at them as the woman hissed, "You!"

Jenny took a step forward, sword lifting insinctively. Vastra's hand clamped down on Jenny's shoulder, holding her in place. She straightened, adopting as regal a bearing as she could muster under the circumstances and levelled the newcomer with her most formidable stare.

"That would explain the buzzing," Vastra said, almost to herself, before adding, "Pray, end this charade; that ceaseless noise is becoming tiresome."

There was a pause, then the woman's hand glided to her wrist and she tapped at something there. The buzzing ended, the very air around them seemed to shimmer and dance. And then the ornate walls and high altar morphed into the grubby stone of a London sewer chamber, though still lit by the flambeaux above and the dim illumination from within the sarcophagus.

"Think I'd rather live with that sound," Jenny muttered.

The sarcophagus now stood on a rough hewn slab of stone but the woman inside remained an impressive figure.

Vastra rolled her eyes and said, "Let us have no pretense, I thank you."

Again the woman tapped at her wrist and now she was shorter, less homo sapien, more felis and certainly less regal. Her feline form was clad in an orange jumpsuit , the exposed parts of her body covered in fur, sharp teeth clearly visible as she hissed and glared at them. At her wrist was a broad, leather strap.

She dropped down from the slab in a fluid motion and stared at them from the lower section of the dais, eyes alert, body inclined towards them in a wary attitude. The three women considered each other in silence. The Felinoid was unarmed but neither Vastra nor Jenny doubted her abilities in combat. She made no move to attack and they all remained in place for a long moment.

Jenny broke the silence, "So you were using this place to fool the Professor and that into thinking you're a High Priestess? Bit elaborate!"

"Playing with human politics and religion," Vastra said, "surely not at all your own preference? Who employs you now?"

The Felinoid hissed but said nothing. Jenny noticed her begin to edge backwards and tensed to move. She waited for Vastra's signal, aware that her friend wanted answers more than she wanted the woman before them.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Jenny smirked, "Oh, this definitely ain't her style, Madame, and playing with rituals? What were you trying to do, raise the dead? When you could raise an army round here with a bag of gold and a few hard words. What'd be the point of it?"

"And involving the Hawthornes when their interest must surely have been nothing more than academic. Or was that the Professor himself? Perhaps so," Vastra said, adding, "No, there is more to it, is there not? You are working for -"

Vastra didn't have the chance to finish her thought. The Felinoid had taken a long stride backwards and was pivoting, ready to vault up on to the slab and into the sarcophagus. Jenny ran, taking the steps two at a time and lunging at the Felinoid.

She tackled her legs, shifting their momentum and sending them tumbling down the other side of the dais. They rolled to a halt on the cold stone floor, the sword clattering away as the Felinoid scrambled against Jenny to find her feet. Jenny clawed at her with one hand while she tried to regain a grip on the sicklesword with the other.

Then the Felinoid was being lifted off her, hefted bodily into the air and cast aside. She hit the ground hard, her arm slapping into the cold stone with an audible crack. Vastra reached down for Jenny and lifted her to her feet, steadying her carefully before they turned as one, blocking the Felinoid's path to the sarcophagus. Her huge paw kept swatting at the device on her wrist but she remained in place.

"Reckon it's knackered," Jenny said and lunged at her with the regained sword.

The Felinoid dodged the tired thrust, moving away from Jenny but a little more towards Vastra. Vastra took a step forward, attempting to hem the Felinoid between them. She pounced suddenly, bounding at them and scattering the two women as she jumped up to the dais and onto the slab above.

Jenny lashed out with the sword, a vicious slash of the blade that bit deep into flesh and bone. The Felinoid mewled in pain as she pushed past them. Jenny struggled to maintain her balance, using the tip of the sword to steady her as she tried to stand and turn at the same time. She felt a strong hand grab at her arm and fought down a moment of panic before she found her unsteady legs beneath her.

Vastra turned on their heels, carrying Jenny with her and they saw the splashes of blood on the steps before raising their eyes just in time to see the Felinoid fall into the sarcophagus, one paw clutching at the other arm. Again the lights glowed and danced, again the fanfare.

Jenny took a faltering step forward but Vastra grabbed at her, holding her back as the lights faded and the Felinoid was replaced by the mummified remains of Anash. Jenny shrugged off her grip and glared up at Vastra.

"I could have stopped her!"

"Or been transported to wherever the creature went. To be greeted by what, my dear?"

Jenny's annoyance died away and she shrugged, "You'd have followed, wouldn't you?"

"I might have considered it," Vastra allowed after a significant pause.


	10. Chapter 10

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny grinned as she gave a tired swat at Vastra's arm with the flat of the sword, "You'd bloomin' well better have done." She looked down at Vastra's sleeve and said, "Oh, sorry."

Vastra too looked down and saw the deep red blood stains soaking into the arm of her blouse where the robe's long sleeve had been cut through. Vastra knew that her own skin was unbroken and her eyes raced over Jenny, satisfying herself that the blood was not that of her friend, though she recognised the signs of deep exhaustion on the pale face and regretted it deeply. Then her gaze followed to where Jenny was already staring.

The Felinoid's vortex manipulator lay on the floor a little way off, just at the point where Jenny's fierce sword stroke had connected with the creature as she pounced. The leather bracelet had been cut clean through on one side. In the confusion of the moment, Vastra had seen only a splash of red and heard the Felinoid's cry. Only now, staring down at the thick pool of blood that surrounded the device, did she realise what had happened.

Jenny stared at the sword, still clasped tight in her bruised hand, "Blimey, this thing really is sharp. Think I'll keep it, Madame."

"As long as you refrain from pointing it at me, my dear," Vastra said with some feeling.

She approached the device, bending down to pick it up carefully and shake off the blood that dripped from it still. Vastra straightened and tilted her hand so that Jenny could consider the leather strap. She hurried to join Vastra and carefully propped the sword against her leg before she reached out and took up the device. Despite her best efforts, she managed to get yet more blood on to her hands.

Jenny muttered but said nothing as she studied the vortex manipulator. She held it up to Vastra with one hand while the other retook its grip on the sword.

"It will be interesting to see if I can repair it," Vastra said as she studied it.

Jenny rolled her eyes, "More time in that lab of yours."

"You disapprove, my dear?"

"Well," Jenny shrugged painfully, "at least it keeps you out of trouble." She looked around the wide sewer chamber and shivered visibly, "Let's get out of here, eh?" she added, suddenly feeling every bit of the damage that her now-protesting body had sustained over the past few hours.

Vastra considered her friend once more and made to say something about her injuries but the warning glare in Jenny's dark eyes silenced her and she glanced around to ensure that the robed figures remained subdued. At least two were still alive but Vastra didn't much care; if they starved and rotted down here, it would be the least they deserved.

"Indeed. Though I dislike leaving when so much remains unanswered."

"Me too but let's think about that when we're out in the fresh air."

They made to leave but Vastra stopped, staring at the altar. She pointed and said, "My dear, I believe there may be another room behind the altar."

"That's where the Professor came from," Jenny said.

She led the way and they found a small door that opened on to a vestibule of sorts where three red robes hung along one wall with spaces for more besides. There was a narrow bench and a table that held vials and pots filled with salt, oils and wine.

Vastra looked the vials over carefully, choosing one and checking its stopper was fast before tucking it into her gilet. She turned to find Jenny propped up against the doorframe, watching her movements with a curious expression and Vastra said, "For Hawthorne and Hasan."

She explained more as they made their slow way back through the corridors that Vastra had traversed and Jenny had bypassed so spectacularly. Though the passageways and chambers appeared very different without the perception filter to cloak their true nature. As they returned to the small altar room where the two young men remained, Jenny described her own journey to the temple and when she reached the part about the lion, Vastra stopped suddenly.

"What?" Jenny said, having taken a few more weary steps before realising that Vastra was no-longer beside her, "What is it?"

Vastra gave a bark of laughter, "Jenny Flint: Lion Slayer."

"Well, we all need a hobby," Jenny grinned, then added in a lower tone, "Never been so scared in my entire life, even if the poor creature was a mangy thing. Finding a Silurian in a back alley was easier on the nerves."

"I should think so, my dear," Vastra teased. She hurried forward and wrapped Jenny in a fierce hug, "May you long slay every lion you meet."

"I'd prefer not to meet any more, if it's all the same to you, Madame," Jenny said and returned the hug as fiercely as she could manage, if one-handed for fear of catching Vastra with the sword.

She felt safe in a way that she could barely begin to comprehend and would happily have remained in her friend's arms for hours. Best not in this place, she told herself firmly and reluctantly pulled away. Looking up into Vastra's face, she was surprised to see a dampness welling in her eyes and watched in wonder as multiple eyelids blinked it away.

Jenny reached up with her free hand and pressed her fingers to the scaled cheek, "We've got a lot to talk about."

"We have indeed, my dear."

"Perhaps not here, mind."

"Perhaps not," Vastra said and took a step back, "Let us rescue the two young men and close off this place as best we can."

The two young man were easy enough to deal with; the vial's contents reviving them physically, if not entirely bringing them to their senses. That too was for the best, Jenny decided as she led the men back up to ground level while Vastra did what she must to seal off the sewer complex from all but the most determined investigation.

The ground lurched beneath their feet as Jenny shepherded the men through the cellar and she looked back in alarm, only relaxing when Vastra appeared inside the sarcophagus. She was covered in masonary dust and even more filth than before but she was alive and that was enough for Jenny. She noticed that Vastra had some papers stuffed into the front of her gilet but decided that it wasn't the right time to ask about them.

They ascended the cellar steps together and stepped out into the cold but fresh air of the corridor with some considerable relief. Both men shivered violently; their clothes missing, they had been forced to cover themselves with sheets of linen that did little to keep out the cool air.

Vastra and Jenny found their coats and offered them to the gentleman, Vastra donning her hat and gloves only. As she did so, Hasan seemed to see her for the first time. His dark, intelligent eyes still hazy but beginning to clear.

"Sorbek?" he gasped.

"No, Mr Hasan," Vastra said, "though I did know him quite well."

Hasan blinked in confusion and said nothing. Jenny glared at him just to make sure he'd keep on saying nothing and he shied away from her in a manner that he did not from Vastra.

Hawthorne was staring at Vastra and finally a light struck in his own eyes and he said, "Madame Vastra?" in a hushed tone.

Jenny rolled her eyes, patting him on the arm and saying, "Just you remember what our agreement was, Mr Hawthorne, eh?"

He obviously didn't at that particular moment and Jenny wasn't sure if he'd remember any of this at all. It would be best if he didn't and she considered clouting them both just to make sure of it.

Setting that idea aside, Jenny slipped out of the main door, shivering in the cold night air. She wasn't surprised to find their young friend hanging around the edge of the opposite building. Jenny clipped his ear for ignoring their instructions, then gave him a couple of bob to run to Scotland Yard and report an incident at the Hall.

Inside, Vastra settled the still-confused young men and told them to remain where they were. She took a few minutes to return to the office and study, bringing back with her an armful of papers and books that would give the Inspector a headstart in his investigations. Neither man was entirely compos mentis when she rejoined them but both did as they were told without causing too much trouble. Jenny returned and gave Vastra a nod of confirmation before considered the two slumped figures, entirely ignoring the tired set of her own small form.

"They'll be all right?"

"I hope so, my dear," Vastra considered them too, "I fear they will do nothing but confuse the gentleman of Scotland Yard but I think it best that we absent ourselves from their investigation."

"They'll come and have a word, you can count on it," Jenny said.

"They will indeed but I believe we can obfuscate sufficiently well."

"Not sure I've got much of a clue what's going on here anyway."

Vastra studied her, "Do you really not, my dear?"

"Well," Jenny shrugged and winced at even that small gesture, "maybe I have but I still don't understand who was behind all this and most especially why they were doing it. Oh, I know what the blokes in the red frocks were up too - trying to reshape the world more to their liking, no doubt - but there's more to it than that."

"There is."

"So who?"

"Ah," Vastra looked around the darkened exhibition hall for a long moment, "that I do not know but I fear we will find out. And I fear that we will find the answer most disagreeable."


End file.
